


these hands have felt a lot

by showingthroughtome



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Art Student Zayn, Crushes, First Time-ish, Idk how to tag really, Lead Singer Harry, M/M, Oblivious Zayn, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 19:10:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6296518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/showingthroughtome/pseuds/showingthroughtome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>harry was the boy across the classroom. the boy across the classroom that just happened to be devastatingly beautiful and the lead singer of a local rock n roll band.</p><p>well, zayn was just the boy that liked the who.</p>
            </blockquote>





	these hands have felt a lot

**Author's Note:**

> alright, so this is my first zarry fic and it just kinda happened. i got an idea and out this came. its half inspired by the crushes you get on super cute boys who you have one class with and then have to hear about their band all the time but you cant bring yourself to care because like, its endearing???... that happens with everyone right???
> 
> Anyway, i hope you like this cute (hopefully) little thing i tried...
> 
> I want to thank Morgan and Isbah because they read this for me and reassured me that it wasnt totally awful. And Ira, for making the banner and cheering me on. And Eriza, for talking fic with me all the time and just being fun in general. And Nicki. because she is my fave zarri, and one of the first people i gushed about zarry with. I would link everyone but I dont know how...

Zayn didn’t know much about Harry. He was just the guy who sat across from him in the circle their English 100 teacher insisted on. She believed it was a fun way to open up the group, get them talking more about MLA format and paper topics. But in reality, it was pretty much a blow off class. A requirement every freshman had to take to fulfill one of the three English courses someone, somewhere deemed necessary. The only assignments were four two-page papers given out throughout the semester, the rest of the time was spent shooting the shit with whichever kids decided to show up.

Zayn didn’t mind the class at all. It was easy, and he made friends in that class, and sometimes he got to share his opinions on things like, “Is John Green a good writer?” and “Is Zooey Deschanel just a victim to the manic pixie dream girl type?” His answers: Yes and no. Because what can he say? Maybe John Green is shit, but Zayn could never deny a manic pixie dream girl. And maybe Zooey Deschanel is a manic pixie dream girl, but again…

So yeah, Zayn just knew Harry as the guy who sat across from him in class. The guy who sometimes brought up things like the band he was in and sometimes performed shows with. The guy with random ass opinions, like him believing the Rolling Stones were better than the Beatles, which Zayn had to disagree with wholeheartedly. Zayn didn’t hesitate to argue with Harry on the comparison between the two when the time was right and their teacher was sitting back, watching the debate. But Zayn let it go, because if he had to pick a British band from the ‘60s, he’d of gone with The Who any day, claiming that they were the best.

Still, he would occasionally catch himself staring at the curly haired boy, with hair going in every direction, rarely ever attempting to tame it save with a bandanna. He had these dimples that concaved his face, and these green eyes that stunned. And Zayn wasn't even sure if that was his thing, or if guys in general were his thing, but he sure as hell didn't mind gazing over every couple of minutes to revel in his beauty.

Zayn had kissed approximately one boy in his lifetime, someone he’d met at Brad Fuller's graduation party. He was just a random boy who looked good and paid diligent attention to Zayn the entire night. Somehow Zayn found himself in the back laundry room of Brad’s house, kissing the guy with a hot mouth and reckless abandon. Zayn shook it off as a onetime thing, as him being attracted to that person no matter what sex organs they possessed.

Now it was coming to the end of the semester, and Zayn was starting to wonder more and more about guys. Maybe he did want to kiss them, and feel them, and taste them. He couldn't help that the boy from across the classroom was perfectly easy to imagine doing all of those things with, even if he didn't know that much about him.

Harry didn't ever seem to stare back at Zayn. Sure he looked, but he never seemed transfixed like Zayn always felt. And why would he? Zayn wasn't half as extraordinary as Harry. Sure he had a yellow streak in his fringe, and a few tattoos lining his arms, but other than that, Zayn was just an average 19-year-old college freshman. Harry was the lead singer of a local Rock n’ Roll band, and even though it had little traction, Harry radiated stardom.

So, it very much startled Zayn when Harry approached him after class one day. It was the day after fall break and everyone was trying their hardest to get back into the groove of things, holding out for the last two weeks before winter break. He was packing his one "required" textbook away, chatting with his friend, Mina about what lunch place to go to.

"Hey, Zayn!" Harry opened, gripping the strap of his army green backpack he had flung on his back. Zayn noted the gold rings on Harry's long nimble fingers - fingers he often threw around the air when he was trying to explain something in the class. "How was your break?"

"Uhh.." Zayn wasn't sure why Harry had come up to him, they've never spoken one on one before save the classic rock debates they found themselves in. But even then, that was in front of the entire class so still not even one on one. "It was good. Tons of food and sleep. Can't complain. You?"

"The same, really. My band had a gig the other night." Zayn knew how much Harry loved this band of his, there hadn't been a day that had gone by in class where he hadn't mentioned it. And the thing was, it never got annoying- not annoying like it normally would when the loud obnoxious kid constantly brought up something no one cared about. It had to have been a part of the Harry Styles charm, or that's what Zayn chalked it up to anyway.

"Oh, sick." Zayn amused, throwing his backpack on and walking around the desk to stand next to Mina. Zayn was an awkward guy on occasion, never knowing quite what to say to keep the conversation going. It was amazing that he had any friends at all.

"Yeah, and like, well, we did a cover of Baba O'Riley." Harry smirked, tightening his hand again.

"Really? I love that song." Zayn didn't want to seem too eager, because now, all of a sudden, he was confidently imagining Harry in a new kind of way- on stage with his mediocre band, glistening with sweat, singing his favorite Who song.

"Figured you did. We put it on our Facebook page."

"I'll have to check it out."

Harry's face lit up, probably from the possibility of getting more views on his video, hoping to go viral if enough people saw it. "We're called Might As Well."

"Yeah, I know." Zayn nodded his head. Again, Harry mentioned his band constantly, everyone in the class knew the name of the band by now.

Zayn took Harry's tiny smile and no reply as his chance to step towards the door. They were the only three people left in the room- because Mina stood beside them the whole time, even with everyone else leaving as soon as possible. It wasn't that Zayn didn't want to keep talking to Harry, but it was literally the most intimidating conversation he had found himself in since starting college- with a boy as likable and beautiful as Harry. "I'll look it up." Zayn offered with a smile, nudging Mina out.

"See ya around, Zayn." Harry waved. "Mina." He smiled.

Zayn and Mina walked in silence down the hall for only a second before she began discussing why it was _best_ that they go to Panera for lunch. As they reached the end of the hall, Zayn turned back just for a moment to see Harry walk out of the door and immediately out the exit of the building.

Mina had to notice the second too long Zayn’s eyes lingered. "He's hot, huh?"

\---

Zayn didn't exactly rush to his computer when entering his dorm, but it was something he thought about all through lunch. Every time Mina opened her mouth to talk about a truly interesting topic, Zayn’s mind ran back to Harry and the video hovering on the internet.

Niall, Zayn’s roommate, was in his own bed, laying on his stomach, most definitely texting the girl he had been devoting his snapchats to since the fifth week of class.

"Hey, man! How was class?" Niall rolled halfway over, laying his phone down to give his full attention.

Zayn shook his head left to right, grabbing his laptop and headphones. "Bullshit as always. You'd think with all the money I spend on it, it would be a little more enriching."

"At least you'll get an A for that GPA of yours.”

"Always looking on the bright side of things aren't ya, Nialler?" Zayn climbed onto his bed, opening his laptop and plugging in his headphones.

Niall let out his boisterous laugh that took hardly nothing to receive, and agreed. "That's me."

Just like that, Niall went back to his phone, sticking his tongue out at it, and then typing a message. Zayn was glad what their friendship consisted of- just tiny conversations where one of them got a laugh out of the other before returning to their own business. Zayn was especially glad that’s how it was that day, just so he wouldn’t have to wait another minute before typing in the three words of Harry’s band name into the Facebook search bar. It wasn’t a hard page to find, and there wasn’t many posts on the page, just tons of videos- the most recent one being Baba O’Riley.

The video was just as he expected, but somehow more. He expected Harry to throw his body in such weird shapes, with him being the tall, lanky person he was. But somewhere deep down, Zayn didn’t expect Harry to sound as good as he did. He just thought Harry had a bunch of gigs because of that charm he always flaunted, or that smile he could so easily wear. It turned out, Harry did have a good voice- deep and smooth, rivaling that of Roger Daltrey. The other two guys on stage with him were even good- competent enough on the guitar and drums that they didn’t take a thing away from Harry's vocals.

Zayn caught himself giggling at the lead singer, not because it _was_ so good that it made him giddy, but because Harry was actually glistening with sweat just as he had pictured it hours before. Zayn was forced to ignore the few side eyes Niall gave at the quiet sounds he was trying to conceal.

\---

Every Tuesday and Thursday, Zayn started his days off in the fine arts center, because, well, he was a fine arts major and that’s where they held classes like Illustration and Visual Thinking. They also held classes like Music Theory and Group Voice in that building, causing Harry to have reason to be there on those days as well.

Zayn had never really noticed Harry there before, but that next day, after he watched Might as Well’s video, Zayn saw him. He was standing with a guitar in hand, an instrument Zayn didn’t know he could play, and a group of people- all looking the artsy type.

Harry had to have felt Zayn’s eyes on him, because out of nowhere he turned his head and made direct eye contact. After holding it for an appropriate amount of time, he turned back to his friends to excuse himself.

“Hey.” Harry greeted when he was close enough to be heard.

“Hey.” Zayn tried to sound cool, moving the coffee he had been nursing all morning so Harry could take a seat if he wanted (or needed) to.

And Harry did, sitting just inches away from Zayn. He looked soft that day, way more than usual. Zayn thought it must’ve been the early hours doing, compared to their 12:30 English class that gave Harry enough time to throw on a plaid shirt and a bandanna of some sort. Now he was just wearing a grungy old Pink Floyd shirt with a hoodie thrown over, looking damn near cuddly.

“You have class soon?” Harry broke the silence that was Zayn staring.

Zayn twisted the cup around in his hand, trying to do anything that would keep him from ogling the boy. “10:20 Illustration.”

“Ahh, 10:20 Voice, myself.” Harry recalled, squinting his eyes like he had to think about it. “What’s this?” He asked as he tapped a finger on Zayn’s _currently_ most used sketch pad, the one he liked to work on before class every morning to hone his craft.

“Just some sketches.”

“Can I see?” Harry's lip quirked into a curious kind of smile.

“Sure." Zayn answered, but then kept a tight grip on the pad in question. "It’s my pencil sketches though, and I think I really specialize in oil pastel.”

“Specialize?” Harry wondered with a tilt of his head. Zayn figured Harry already knew what he had meant, assuming Harry had a specialty of his own. Because sure, Harry could probably play the guitar he was carrying around, but there was no way he was as good at that as he was at singing. And if so, well then this was a cruel, cruel world, and Zayn wasn’t sure he wanted to be a part of it.

Instead of saying all of that, he explained himself in a normal way - a less obsessive way. “Not really, it's just what I’m most confident in. But I’m trying to perfect my pencil work."

“Is art ever perfect?” Harry was still eyeing the thing Zayn wasn't letting up on.

“Some would argue that it’s always perfect and is in the eye of the beholder.” Zayn said, trying to move his gaze away from the smirk Harry had put on with his last question. He was really hoping he couldn’t tell that's where his eyes were resting. If so, Harry would've been creeped out by the intensity of it. It was just... It wasn't Zayn’s fault that Harry’s lips were so pink and inviting.

“Isn’t that beauty?” Harry quipped back, finally breaking Zayn’s stare - with a remark like that, Zayn had to look at his eyes.

It had Zayn smirking a look of his own. “And art. Or at least that’s the shit my Visual Thinking professor tries to sell.”

“They're not doing a good job?”

“Ehh, she’s alright.”

“Well, let’s see it then.” Harry reached for the book, and Zayn conceded, handing it over. He was quick to flip it open and examine the sketches. Zayn watched as his eyes flicked over the loaded pages of random drawings - various fruits, hands, Niall, Mina, all of his sisters. Zayn was counting his blessing that he never thought to sketch Harry. “Zayn, I know it’s all in the eye of the beholder and that, but these are insane.”

“Insane good? Insane bad?” Zayn pushed, nervous at what Harry would think.

Harry shook his head, and Zayn was preparing himself for the worst. But that's not what he got when Harry looked up from the sketches for the first time. “Insanely brilliant.”

“Thanks.” Zayn felt his chest expand again after collapsing sometime back, after letting his art be examined.

“I can’t even imagine what your specialty looks like.” Harry's examining went back to the sketches, flipping a page to see more still lives - letting out a small chuckle when he saw an exact replica of their "required" English textbook propped up by a copy of every John Green novel.

“Not much better.” Zayn laughed back.

“Doubt it.” Harry predicted with a subtle eye roll. “So, I can come to you when I need my cover art done, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“For my album." Harry beamed, as if it was an obvious thing.

Zayn laughed at that, at how certain Harry was of what his future would hold. “Sure, just let me know.”

“Harry!” One of the guys Harry was standing with from before called. “Come on, you can’t be late to Crowder’s class again. He’ll fail you on the spot.”

Harry snapped the pad shut, standing up and handing it over. Zayn took it with hesitant hands- almost not ready to see Harry go.

"He’s being dramatic, that wouldn’t happen, though I should get going.” Harry grabbed his guitar case and began backing away. “See you tomorrow, Zayn.”

“See ya.” Zayn returned, just then realizing he didn’t get a chance to praise Harry in return for nailing his performance of Baba O’Riley.

\---

Zayn saw Harry the next day, but still managed not to bring up his video. There were just so many other people in the classroom and he never felt a right time during the “lesson” to mention how great he thought it was.

That day, their teacher, Mrs. Wyatt, wanted to issue their last paper. They had to write about a book that influenced them the most in the last year. Zayn thought she was being too hopeful in assuming everyone in the class had even read a book that recently. They’d all probably rely on the last book that was force read to them in high school, or maybe write on the Divergent series, because the movie just came out for it, and why read when you can just watch Shailene Woodley act it out?

Zayn honestly didn’t have an idea on what book to choose either. He read of course, but none really stuck out in his mind.

“I think I’m going to write on ‘The Five People You Meet in Heaven’.” Mina spoke to Zayn quietly while Mrs. Wyatt discussed the parameters of the paper for the millionth time over to some of the kids on her left- Harry trapped amongst them. From her right, Zayn was paying attention, or at least trying to, but Harry kept laughing whenever the class jock made a stupid joke, distracting him amazingly.

“Huh?” Zayn asked, not really hearing what his friend said.

“Staring again?” She smiled lightly, waving her pencil in Harry’s direction.

Zayn felt defensive at once, scrunching his face but deciding cluelessness was the right way to go. “What?”

“Nothing…” She snorted, shaking her head. “Just my book choice for the paper.”

“Oh yeah, I heard you. Good choice.” Zayn didn’t really hear what she had chosen, though Mina was an English major so he trusted her opinions on all things _books._

“Lunch after?”

“Of course.” Zayn rolled his eyes and turned his gaze back to the teacher (or the boy sitting a few seats away).

Fifteen minutes later and the class was over. Zayn was packing up his backpack, sneaking glances around the room to see if he would get the chance to approach Harry. When his eyes did finally reach the place Harry was, he found him just stepping out the door.

Beside him, he heard a slight cough.

“You’re doing it again.” Mina sing-songed.

“What?” Zayn asked again, this time not having a clue what she was referring to.

“Staring.” She peered her eyes at him while she pulled the straps to tighten her backpack and headed to the door.

It was now Zayn’s turn to shake his head in exasperation as he followed her out. “Whatever, Mina.”

“What? I agreed he was hot.”

“I never said that.” Zayn defended, feeling caught.

“You’re not exactly secretive.” She declared nonchalantly, causing Zayn’s eyes to widen and his heart rate to pick up. If Mina had saw him admiring Harry from afar, surely he had too. Mina saw Zayn’s negative reaction and backtracked immediately. “Listen, I don’t think he notices, and if so, he doesn’t look put off by it.”

“Okay.” Zayn rushed, looking around to make sure no one was close enough to hear what they were saying.

“And honestly, I don’t mean to sound like a dick, but I just didn’t even know you were gay.”

Zayn looked around again, double checking that they were walking in a lonely hallway. “Who says I am?”

He knew Mina wasn’t trying to be offensive, she definitely didn’t have any reservations about it either though. She was one of those state-your-mind-no-matter-what types who were really popular on Tumblr because she preached equal rights for everyone, and even though she was sometimes problematic, she always meant well.

“You! When you eye fuck him all class!” She was laughing, all carefree-like, as if her accusations didn’t faze her at all.

“I do not eye fuck him!” Zayn gritted through clenched teeth, keeping his volume low, feeling almost scandalized.

“Sure you don’t.” Mina tilted the left side of her lip, nodding her head the way people do when they sympathy agree with people. But then when she caught the spooked look Zayn was wearing, like before, she placed her hand gently on his forearm. “It’s cool, Zayn, if you are.”

“I know, labels just aren’t my thing.” They really weren’t his thing, he could never quite fit with any of them. He was a hipster who loved both pop music and rock n roll- but hated tea. He was an artist who had to practice his skill to be good. And he was a guy who loved the softness of girls, but maybe he liked the softness of boys too.

“But Harry is?” She guessed, squeezing her hand where she kept it on his arm.

“I guess so.” Zayn didn’t dare to make eye contact while he let the words slip out of this mouth for the first time.

“Yeah. He’d be mine too, ya know, if I were into men.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Zayn’s face split into a smile as the words she spoke made him content enough to look at her. “Who said Harry was a _man_?”

“If that’s how you feel you should probably stop undressing him with your eyes.”

\---

Zayn loved a good Friday. It carried so much promise to it- the start of the weekend, no homework, a possible visit with his sisters.

This particular Friday, Zayn only had to get through that English class before he was free for the weekend, with nothing to do or work on except for sleep.

Since Mina got Zayn to open up, and opened up right back, she would nudge him every time Harry spoke, nodding her head in his direction, hoping he would talk. Apparently she supported their “love” the most.

“I’ve got a show tonight. You should come, Mrs. Wyatt.” Harry brought up when the lesson of the day came to a lull and Mrs. Wyatt let things go off topic.

Mrs. Wyatt did what she always did, and thought of a weak but amusing excuse as to why she couldn’t go. “Oh, Harry, I would, but then who would watch my cat?”

“I’m sure Shane would, right Shane?” Shane was the class jock everyone needed in their lives to defy the stereotype. He enjoyed all the things every jock was supposed to like- alcohol, girls, the game- but he was also one of the nicest guys, rivaling Harry for most charming.

Shane popped his head up from the phone, seeming to not pay attention but responding on point. “Sorry, Ma’am, I’ve got a game tomorrow morning.”

“So of course he has to slam down a few beers tonight.” Harry taunted, getting laughs all around the room.

To Zayn’s left came another nudge, feeling Mina’s encouragement. If he had something to add, he might’ve said something, but the two guys had that covered.

“Like you don’t do the same as soon as you get done flailing on stage, Styles.”

“Fair enough.” Harry conceded, throwing his hands up in defense, redirecting his attention to the teacher who had been watching fondly at the boys banter- just as the rest of the class had. “I flail, Mrs. Wyatt, you have to see it!”

The excitement, rather the hope, in Harry’s voice had something funny rising in Zayn’s chest, almost like an ache for the boy who just wanted people to come see him do something he loved.

Shane backed Harry up, “I’ve actually seen the show. It’s not the worst thing.”

“Thanks Shane. You’ve warmed my heart.”

“Don’t mention it.” As the words left Shane’s mouth, Zayn heard a sigh of discontent come from Mina, knowing she wanted him to seize the moment. But Zayn knew it wasn’t his time, and it wasn’t going to be a conversation about Shane and Harry that got him in with the boy.

Thankfully, Mrs. Wyatt cracked a joke, alleviating the pressure Zayn felt. “Ahh, my favorite bromance back at it again.”

That got _everyone_ laughing- even Harry, letting his composure go for the first time. Zayn was too caught up in it all- the sound of his laugh, the scrunched-up-ness of his nose- to look away when Harry caught him, widening his smile that little bit more. To Zayn, that was the perfect moment to be bold and not look away, asking himself the one question everyone should consider when making eyes with their crush- ‘what would Mina do?’ Knowing the answer, he held the green of Harry's pupils in his, swallowing when Harry wouldn’t let up either.

Much to Zayn’s (and Mina’s) dismay, they were quickly interrupted by Mrs. Wyatt dismissing the class and then their fellow students rushing out between them.

And in the mood to stay bold, because hey, he was already trying, Zayn called Harry's name as he slowly walked by.

Harry stopped in his tracks, turning to Zayn, clutching the strap of his backpack. “Hey.”

“I, um, I watched your band's video.” Zayn voiced nervously. He wasn’t like that normally, or not so obvious about it, but from time to time, nerves is all he could feel, mainly when he was staring at the burning star that Harry was.

“Oh yeah?” He beamed. If Zayn was a dumber person, he’d of said Harry almost looked relieved at the information. “Finally. What did you think?”

Zayn didn’t pay attention to the ‘finally’ part, quickly convincing himself it wasn’t anything, and then moved on the best way he knew how- with a half compliment, half insult. “Nearly as good as Roger.”

“High praise, then?” Of course Harry would only see the half compliment in Zayn’s words.

“If you’re a glass half full kind of person, I suppose so.”

“Well,” Harry started, looking down at his feet as he thought up his next line, smirking up when he got it. “I’m feeling half full right about now so, yeah, I’d say so.”

Zayn couldn’t do a thing except for agree with a chuckle and a head shake.

“Then you’re coming to our show, right?” Harry's face read eager once again, high off the hype his band would get.

Zayn was hesitant, “Isn’t it a 21 and over club?"

“I’m sure I can get you in.” Harry claimed proudly, seeming like he lives for the exclusivity he can bring to people.

“Well then, hell yeah!” Mina burst in, clearly not as on Zayn’s side as she claimed if she so readily ruined Zayn’s chance to reply. “He'll be there, but like, as long as you get me in too.”

“Mina, I can get you in but you’re on your own for the alcohol part of the night.”

“Dammit, Styles. Then what are you good for?”

“Flailing, haven’t you heard?”

The three of them laughed at that, and when that died out, Zayn, one last time deciding to stay with the theme of boldness, suggested, “I’ll be the one deciding that.”

\---

Zayn was nervous, or way past it, by the time he was supposed to leave his dorm to meet Mina at the club. He had already spent the last hour and half changing into different versions of the same outfit- tight black skinny jeans, one of the many band t-shirts, combat boots, a flannel, and (because it was cold of course and not because he thought it made him look the most badass he could manage) a leather jacket. He was counting his lucky stars that Niall was out for the night so he wouldn’t have to see the scene, particularly embarrassed with himself when he wound up in the outfit he started in- the only difference being the plain white shirt under his flannel instead of any band shirt.

Mina made sure to text him encouraging words about how clearly Harry was interested in him no matter how many times Zayn denied it. He just figured Harry liked when people liked his band.

By 8:30, Zayn was supposed to be leaving his room to meet Mina at 9, just when the show was set to start, but he couldn’t remove himself from the mirror and therefore from mucking up his fringe. At that moment, he never hated the blonde streak he had convinced himself to get more, certain he looked like a skunk. His final adjustments were rushed by the buzzing in his back pocket, knowing it was Mina making sure he had left.

It had to happen sooner or later, Zayn leaving and all, so he grabbed his keys and locked the door behind him, starting the short walk to the club.

Eighteen minutes later, Zayn was there, finally pulling his phone out of his back pocket to call Mina. He wasn’t sure how Harry was supposed to get them in because they didn’t have his number, but he’s sure Mina would know.

“Hey, Zayn!” She yelled into the phone when answering, a loud noise coming through too.

“Are you already inside? How am I supposed to get in?”

“Harry left our names at the door. Just tell the guy and he’ll let you come through.”

He hung up. Mina would just have to forgive him when she saw him in a couple of seconds.

Zayn sucked in a deep breath, walking up to the door and the bouncer who guarded it.

“Zayn Malik.” He attempted to say confidently, giving off the impression he was meant to be there.

The large man shook his head, not saying a word or checking out any kind of list, moving out of the way so Zayn would have enough room to walk inside of the club. Zayn tried to cover his shock that he was actually getting into a club that was 21 and over when he was just a 19 year old, gliding in the door and squinting in the darkness.

The club was way more crowded than he expected, people pushed up to the stage, filling the room all the way to the bar, not a person worth of space between any of them. And even still, it wasn’t hard to find Mina, because of course she was at the bar, gripping a clear glass full of a brown liquid.

“Mina!” Zayn approached, trying to get her attention over the loud music blaring before the band came on.

“Oh look, it’s the rude person who hangs up on friends.” Mina threw her hand up and over to his shoulder, swaying just enough to show the effects of the liquor in her cup.

“Sorry. I just wanted to get in..” Zayn apologized, already nervous enough without Mina throwing a fit.

With a quirk of her eyebrow, Zayn knew he had nothing to worry about, bracing himself for her next words.

“I bet.” She said suggestively as she proudly raised the glass to her lips, knocking back the rest of her drink.

Zayn exhaled from the depths of his lungs, feeling his own body stumble forward when someone from behind pushed him closer to his friend, if they weren’t in such a populated area he would’ve been offended, but knew better than to think it was on purpose.

“Wait, so are all of these people here for Harry's  band?” Zayn wondered, completely unaware why it was so crowded. Sure Harry was good, along with the rest of his band, but they were not known well enough to attract this much of an audience. (Zayn would've known after spending the last few days monitoring their Facebook page and seeing that they only had 137 likes.)

Mina reached her hand up to attract the bartender before answering, keeping her priorities in check. “Apparently, Might as Well is opening up for Cage the Elephant.”

“Seriously?” Zayn was impressed. Cage the Elephant weren’t a _huge_ band, but they were big enough to have had a few songs cross over to pop radio from the alternative stations they usually played on.

“Seriously!”

“He didn’t say anything.”

“Humble guy, that Harry Styles.” Mina couldn’t get the words out, choking on her own lies with a laugh, getting one out of Zayn as well. Harry was never humble per say, he wasn’t boastful either, but humble wasn’t a Harry identifier.

But before they knew it, and Mina could successfully get another drink, the crowd roared with cheers, and Harry with two other boys, walked on stage. Without a pause, they started playing a song, and within seconds, Zayn recognized it as a Rolling Stones song- Under My Thumb to be exact.

Zayn couldn’t help but be mesmerized by Harry at that moment, and didn’t have to feel an ounce of shame about it this time, because everyone in the room was too, even Mina once she had a drink in hand. This bar must not have been the ID-ing type.

Harry didn’t talk much in between songs, he would introduce a song here, give a few ‘glad you came it’s’ there, but mainly he just gyrated around stage. Halfway through the set, which granted was only three songs, and they performed nothing but covers. Zayn wasn’t sure if they had any originals, but if they did, he wouldn’t have any objections to hear them.

Instead of an original song, Zayn got something else.

“Hello everyone.” Harry entertained, making his way to the center of the stage where he could push his microphone back into its stand. Once he did, he pulled at the collar of his simple black V-neck and bent down to pick up a water bottle, taking a few sips while the guitar player tuned his instrument.

“Um, our next cover is one we don’t do too often, but I know _someone_ out there will enjoy it. I still say the Stones are better…” Harry raised his hand to his brow, blocking the light from his eyes, examining the room. There was no way he would be able to see Zayn, if that were who he was searching for, but that didn’t keep Zayn from smiling brightly at him, knowing exactly what was coming.

“Here we go anyway.” Harry smiled, walking away from the microphone as Baba O’Riley began to play from the speakers.

\---

Zayn waited through the whole of Cage the Elephant's set, searching for Harry while Mina drank up and found a girl to focus on. She never left his side, but she might as well have, so instead of pathetically listening in to the lines Mina spouted, he turned around to the bar, ordering a beer and finding a napkin to doodle on.

Finally, when he was through three of the piss tasting alcohol bottles, and a napkin full of poorly drawn roses, Zayn got a tap on the shoulder by a timid hand.

He lifted his gaze to find the green eyes and pink lips he had been waiting on.

“You made it!” Harry squeezed in the tiny space between Zayn and the stranger who sat beside him, leaving little room for Zayn to breathe - not that he was complaining. Mina was still there, facing completely away from them, whispering sweet nothings to the blonde she found.

“‘Course, we said we would.” Zayn assured, grinning at the boy who was still covered in a thin layer of sweat and beaming excitement. “Though, I think Mina was too busy to actually watch.”

They both took a glance over, watching her work her magic, but didn’t concern themselves too much since they both seemed to have other things on their mind.

“Ahh, that’s okay, gotta do what you gotta do.” Harry lifted one of his shoulders and the opposite hand, portraying himself as insanely cute in Zayn’s eyes. And then, remembering something, he pondered, bring a hand to his chin. “So my flailing?”

Maybe it was the three beers that had Zayn feeling good and confident, but he didn’t question it. “Very nice. Shane should’ve given you more credit.”

“See! That’s what I think too!”

A huff escaped Zayn’s mouth. Harry was always so sure of himself that it was bit daunting to the semi-self-conscious art student.

“Are you really cocky or just confident? I can never tell.”

“A little bit of both, really.” Harry shrugged, not too bothered with admitting the simple truth. He examined the bar top, took one look at Zayn’s sketches and then his empty collection of bottles. “I’ll buy your next drink. Sorry I took so long to come out. The band sounds really good side stage. I would’ve invited you but I didn’t have your number.”

“Is that you asking?” Again, it had to have been the alcohol, Zayn didn’t know another reason why he would be able to flirt so easily.

“Is that you offering?” Harry countered, very pleased if his expression had anything to say about it.

Zayn laughed again, because for some reason, Harry was really good at getting that reaction from him. “Smooth, Styles.”

They spent the next two beers drinking, talking more and more. It was no coincidence that as their bottles emptied, they got touchier. When Zayn made Harry laugh, he would graze Zayn’s shoulder, and when Harry poked fun at Zayn, Zayn would shove him lightly, the right amount of playfulness and flirty. And Zayn was proud, because he was actually doing it. He was actually letting his interest in Harry be known.

It was all really working when Harry was coming down from a laugh, sighing as breathing out the words, “Can I just…”

He didn’t continue but eyed something just above Zayn, perhaps his hair.

“Can you what?” Zayn wanted to know.

“I have wanted to touch that blonde streak since the moment you came into class.” Harry admitted, fully convincing Zayn that he was either really, really drunk, or dreaming.

“That’s a little strange, Harry.” Zayn swallowed, not wanting anything more than to feel Harry in his hair.

“Is that a no?”

Zayn blinked a few times. “No.”

Harry took his hand, slowly moving it up to Zayn’s hair, right before he could, Zayn spoke. “Don’t mess it up though.”

“I would never.” Harry smirked, and then continued his path, slowly using a few fingers to comb back Zayn’s hair once before bringing his hand back down. “Yeah, just as soft as I expected.”

“Harry?” Zayn scrunched his eyes, breathing in.

“Huh?”

Zayn didn’t take the chance to answer him, and just took all the clues he had been gathering over the last week as a clear sign that Harry wouldn’t mind. He used the bar top under his hand to push up high enough that he could close the gap between him and Harry, interlocking their lips.

Harry had no reservations in returning Zayn’s actions, slouching down so Zayn didn’t have to reach as high. Zayn couldn’t hardly handle the heat Harry was evoking, only intensified by the alcohol. He wanted more, so he entangled his hands in Harry’s hair at the nape of his neck, pulling their bodies hard against each other. Harry was quick to grab at Zayn’s hips, attempting to steady them in the presence of all Zayn’s eagerness.

From behind Zayn, Mina must’ve given her blonde a break, because of course, right then, she let out a cat call, breaking the pair apart. Zayn just bowed his head, pressing his fingertips to his lips at the sight of her dramatically fanning herself off. Harry laughed like the charismatic person he was and rested his forehead on Zayn’s shoulder, keeping them close.

\---

The weekend couldn’t have gone by slower. Zayn wasn’t busy with all of his homework done for the semester save for the last English paper. Though that was less than 1000 words so he could do that the day before and call it done. He was basically left twiddling his thumbs as Harry had three music compositions to work on.

They exchanged numbers after Zayn called an Uber for him and Mina, and Harry pecked a few last kisses on his lips outside of the club. He texted Zayn often, multiple times a day, but he couldn’t possibly find the time to meet up with him due to his procrastination and “shit ton” of work he had due.

Monday though, Harry had caught himself up. Inviting himself back to Zayn’s dorm when English was over. Zayn started to reluctantly object, saying he had to get lunch with Mina, but she quickly made an excuse as to why they couldn’t and when Harry turned around to walk out of the room, Zayn silently thanked her.

Harry was laying on top of Zayn in Zayn's bed, and he would’ve been dominating the make out session if it wasn’t for the tight grip Zayn held on Harry’s hair- giving a little tug every so often, producing a moan from him, a sound Zayn deemed more satisfying than the notes Harry could hit when singing.

“Zayn…” Harry breathed, breaking away from his mouth. “…so fucking gorgeous.”

Zayn bit his lip instead of gushing all the words that came to mind when he thought of Harry. Harry moved his mouth to the very edge of Zayn’s jaw, sucking a few times while simultaneously running his hand down Zayn’s torso. He stopped at Zayn’s belt buckle, slowly undoing it with one hand. Zayn sucked in a staggered breath, containing his excitement for all the new things he knew Harry would make him feel.

But as it happened, Zayn didn’t live alone, and Niall normally stopped by the dorm around that time.

Zayn could hear the key go into the door and pushed Harry off of him before he himself could even accept that things had to stop.

“Just- Just sit on the end of the bed.” Zayn ordered a confused Harry as the door opened. Obeying, Harry straightened his shirt and sat there smiling at the rush of Zayn trying to buckle his belt.

Niall didn’t notice as he took his backpack off and pulled the headphones from his ears, turning around just as Zayn situated. His face lit up in recognition when he saw the addition to the room.

“Harry, man! How goes it?” Niall grinned his signature expression.

“Niall!” Harry shocked to find a familiar face, apparently not taking note of the person as soon as they walked in due to his watching of Zayn. “I’ve been good. How have you been?”

“Not too bad. Trying to get through this last week before finals. I didn’t know you knew Zayn.” Niall laughed, jumping on his bed, letting his feet dangle.

“I didn’t know Niall was your roommate.” Harry directed his words at a shocked Zayn. What a small world Zayn lived in?

“How do you guys know each other?” Niall asked, whipping out his phone as usual, keeping everything super casual.

Zayn sat up, moving that much further from Harry. “He’s a friend from English class. How do you guys know each other, Niall?”

“Harry’s the man! Love his band!”

Harry nodded his head, sharing a smile with the room. “Yeah, he is normally at the club when we play a show.”

“The end of the semester has been kicking my ass so I’ve been missing out. When’s your next show?” Niall had a look of genuine look of disappointment for all the shows he had missed.

“Not this Friday, but the next. The 18th, I think?” Harry pinched his bottom lip, contemplating if he were right or not.

“I’m still waiting on that Eagles song I requested.” Niall was so easy-going, letting any words he felt flow through his mouth. Zayn couldn’t help but admire Niall for his ability to make everyone his best friend.

“If I can get Liam and Louis behind it, we'll do it.” Harry referred to the other two members of his band. They were the guys Zayn remembered calling Harry to class when he was too busy staring at Zayn’s sketches.

“Fuck yeah!” Niall clapped his hands loudly, probably more intensely than intended, but played it off with a giggle.

“Alright, well I should get going. Homework and that.” Harry slid off the bed, grabbing his bag from the place he threw it when rushing in earlier.

“Okay.” Zayn nodded even though he knew for a fact Harry said he was done with homework for the day but also not thinking it was his place to call him out.

“See ya on Wednesday, Zayn.” Harry teetered for a moment then went for the doorknob.

“See ya, Harry.”

“Absolute legend, that one!” Niall claimed as soon as Harry slipped out of the door.

“He’s not bad.” Zayn agreed while getting up to grab his sketchpad and oil pastels. He reckoned he spent enough time with pencils over the semester, and Harry was making him feel the need to use the full range of colors that pastels provided.

An hour went by while Zayn sat and worked. He created something he was truly happy with - a forest of trees, varying in shades of green. By the time he finished, he was starting to wonder why he hadn’t heard from Harry since he left, having grown accustomed to talking with him constantly over the last couple days. But since he didn’t like waiting around much, he took intuitive, and sent a text.

**Hey, what are you up to?**

**_School work and stuff_ **

**I was thinking that maybe we could meet tomorrow instead of waiting until Wednesday?**

**_Yeah?_ **

**Course. I’ll meet you in the fine arts center after your last class, I’m there all day basically.**

**_I'm done at 3_ **

**See ya then, Harry :)**

**_See ya, Zayn x_ **

**\---**

Harry took Zayn by surprise, coming out of his classroom in a rush and pulling Zayn by the hand and around the corner. He shoved Zayn into the stairwell that was well known as the least populated, it being on the far end of the building and all.

In the blink of an eye, Zayn was pressed against the concrete wall, Harry's lips attaching to him in one swift motion. And even though it was all shocking, the urgency behind the kiss was driving Zayn crazy. He pulled Harry even closer, opening his mouth to allow them both easier access to the other.

Zayn’s senses were being ruled by Harry; the softness of his lips, his skin, the roughness of the stubble. Then it was the taste of him, like everything sweet Zayn had ever known mixed to create a brand new flavor. Zayn even caught the scent of Harry just then, a cologne that was just the right amount of musk. He was well aware that he was viewing Harry with a pair of rose colored glasses, and no one could be that perfect, but Harry was also licking into his mouth just right that Zayn could not give a fuck even if he tried.

Harry pulled back with a rough bite to Zayn’s lower lip, fire burning behind his low sitting eyes as he pushed their foreheads together.

“Fuck.” Zayn gasped, wanting to do something more but not knowing what.

“I know, Zayn.” Harry said his name like it was something special. “Can’t stop thinking of you…”

“Don’t.” Zayn’s face split at the idea, obsessed with being on Harry's mind, reconnecting their lips before moving up Harry's cheeks as best he could. Being shorter than Harry never seemed like a bad thing until he wanted to cover every part of him with his lips.

He didn’t have enough time to worry about that before Harry moved to Zayn’s neck, starting with a gentle bite right below his ear, and then a suck to soothe the skin.

“You’ve got a thing with biting, don’t you?”

“Only when it’s you.” Zayn had no idea of knowing if that was true, he was going to accept it in that moment anyway. “You taste so good.” Harry found a vein on Zayn’s neck, tracing it just barely with his tongue. That alone had Zayn jutting his hips away from the wall and impossibly closer to the green-eyed boy. Feeling himself grow that much hotter.

Harry ended up at his collarbone, alternating between bites and plush kisses. It was causing Zayn’s eyes to roll back in desire. He felt like he wasn’t doing enough for Harry, like he could be offering more, but also like he never wanted Harry to stop tending to him. And when Harry’s hands started wandering down his sides, stopping at his hips, Zayn grabbed Harry’s neck, pulling him up. Harry connected eyes with Zayn, but instead of meeting his lips, he dropped to his knees.

Zayn had to close and open his eyes a few times to make sure everything was actually happening. He decided it was real when Harry rolled his T-shirt just enough to show a sliver of his skin, and started biting at Zayn’s hips.

“You’ve got to be kidding.” Zayn said under his breath to himself, or maybe god, if he were listening.

Harry didn’t say a word in response, getting too much pleasure from the skin he was teasing. Without moving his lips, Harry undid the button on Zayn’s jeans, taking the zipper down slowly. Zayn had made up his mind right then to let whatever was going to happen in that stairwell happen. And anyway, Harry had seemed determined enough to not be persuaded by Zayn that they could get caught even if Zayn wanted to try. So instead of being responsible and suggesting they do it another time, Zayn curled his fingers in Harry’s hair, his new favorite place to keep his hands.

Someone must’ve been opposed to what the two boys wanted, because from up above, they heard the loud slam of a door shut and a fast paced decent down the stairs. Harry rose to his feet quick, grabbing Zayn’s wrist and pulling him out of the door. Once they were in the clear, Harry threw his own body against the wall this time, breathing heavy and laughing at the closeness of being caught.

Zayn just watched, too pleased with the sight of Harry to be worried about what could’ve happened if they were a little bit further, and the person in the stairwell walked a little bit quieter.

“Has this always been a thing for you?” Harry pushed his hair stuck to the thin layer of sweat forming around his brow away from his face.

“What?” Zayn leaned against the wall opposite Harry.

“Interruptions right as you’re about to get blown?” No-Reservations-Harry was out, shocking Zayn with his forwardness.

“Uhh,” Zayn started, deciding maybe then was the time to let Harry know Zayn had never fully _been_ with a guy before. “I’ve never been… so I wouldn’t know.”

“You’ve never been what?”

“I’ve never been… you know…” Zayn would much rather Harry fill in the blanks on his own.

And he did, dropping his jaw. “You’ve never had a blowjob?”

Zayn nodded.

“Zayn, have you ever…?” Harry trailed off with wider than usual eyes.  

“Yeah, quite a few times.” Zayn shook his head, not liking the necessary but touchy subject. “Just always with girls.”

Harry rolled his eyes at that, almost offending Zayn if it weren’t for him being able to understand that Harry was feeling shocked.

“What? Am I like your experimentation?” Harry flung across the hall, harsher than Zayn would've liked.

“No, of course not. I’ve kissed another guy before you. I just-” Zayn thought how to say the things right. To say he has thought about other people before, but before Harry he had never wanted anyone so badly- not even the girl he dated in high school for three years before their fizzle out. “I just hadn’t met you before.”

Harry examined something below him, maybe his shoe, maybe the floor tiles. “Me?” He clarified.

Zayn was feeling vulnerable, way more than he was used to, but something about Harry just made him feel okay - like vulnerability wasn't a bad thing. “Yeah, you’re the only one I can see myself doing these things with.” Zayn shrugged, turning just his head to gaze blankly down the hallway instead of facing the person standing so far from him.

“The only one?” Harry's smile could be heard through every word, all his concerns vanishing from his tone.

Zayn turned back at the softness of Harry. He knew it wasn’t a bad choice to open up to him.

“Well, maybe sometimes Ryan Reynolds too.” He half-joked.

“Ahhh, yes, your superhero.” Harry teased as he stepped across the hall, closing the space that had grown between them. He took each one of Zayn’s hands, interlocking their fingers tightly, holding them in front of his body. “We can take things slow, you know?”

“I know.” Zayn breathed in gently, knowing slow wasn’t what he wanted.

\---

Harry and Zayn had come up with a bit of a routine, and it had only been three days. Some would say they were moving too fast by spending so much time together, they would say they liked to have dinner together. So that's what they did. Every night they went to some restaurant, a new one each day (but again it had only been three days.)

And in English class on Friday, their very last day where all they had to do was drop off their paper (that Zayn wrote on a random John Green book, just to be a dick to Mrs. Wyatt, because oh yeah, she thought he wasn't that great) they met up with Mina. She demanded a lunch before the winter break, heavily suggesting Harry come along so she could revel in what she "basically set up."

They went back to Panera in honor of Mina, or really just so they didn't have to hear her complain the entire time about how that's where they should've been. They spent so much time laughing and talking there that by the time they left, it was nearing dinner. Mina went her own way, saying she'd try her hand at the same club as the week before, while Harry and Zayn found another (cheaper) place to eat.

"You know it's been a week since we first kissed?" Harry asked Zayn as they approached Zayn’s dorm after dinner - Harry demanding he walk him to his dorm.

"Ew, that long already?" Zayn faked a disgusted face.

"Long? That's literally seven days, Zayn." Harry whined, either being dramatic himself or believing the look Zayn put on.

Zayn just broke into a smile. "It's called sarcasm, Harry, you ever heard of it?"

"Yeah, I use it rather often." Harry quipped, stopping in front of the door.

"Pretty poorly, then." Zayn stuck his tongue out. Over the last couple days, he realized how much fun it could be to tease Harry.

"You're such a dick sometimes."

"No way."

"Yes." Harry exhaled. "How do I even know you like me if you're always so mean?"

Zayn rolled his eyes at that, thinking the best answer to that question was a kiss - a quick one with little tongue but enough lazy softness that they both lost their breath.

"Good answer." Harry pulled back, kissing Zayn’s cheek.

Good nights were exchanged and Zayn waved bye one last time from inside his door. He found a studying Niall just in the room, lifting his head from his book, and nodding in greeting.

Niall waited until Zayn got all comfortable to channel his signature bluntness.

"So, you're seeing Harry?" Niall asked like a statement, not looking up from his book.

Zayn was shocked at his words. He thought he had more time to tell Niall what was going on. In light of all this, Zayn played dumb. "What do you mean?"

"Zayn, neither one of us are idiots, and dude, it's cool if you are. Harry's a good guy. I'm just curious." Niall put his laptop aside for just a moment to focus on Zayn laying in his bed.

Zayn had no clue what to say, an instant reaction being one of denial and nerves. "I don't know."

"How don't you know?" Niall laughed, giving Zayn every indication that he wasn’t bothered at all. "You hang out with him all the time now."

"I guess so."

"Zaynie, I promise you it’s okay to tell me these kinds of things. I just want to get it out there so you don't have to feel like you have to introduce him as your friend. At least not to me, man."

"Okay." Zayn did the thing where he only gave short answers when he was confronted with any kind of topic. But then he chanced a look at Niall and found rosy red cheeks, surely from a good laugh he just had not too long ago. "I just didn't want to freak you out."

Niall shook his head left to right decidedly. "Never. I mean, I knew the moment I saw him on your bed. You looked too flustered to be friends."

Zayn lightened up at the thought. "Damn, I thought I played that off."

"Nearly." Niall laughed. "And then you hit him with the 'friend' line. Boy looked crushed, honestly."

"Really?" This was completely new information to Zayn, he didn’t notice anything with Harry. Well other than the homework he knew didn’t exist.

"He rushed right outta here. Seriously Zayn, ya gotta be more observant sometimes." Niall declared, tapping a finger on his temple.

Zayn took offense, priding himself on the intensity at which he observed Harry. "I'm plenty observant."

"Sure." He raised his eyebrows. "Oblivious Zayn, is what I should call you."

"Whatever," Zayn shook his head, nuzzling deeper into the covers. "But thanks Nialler, for being so cool and all."

Niall shrugged, "Any time."

\---

Harry was smarter this time, inviting Zayn to his house. Sure he still lived with his parents, but his door had a lock that no one else had a key to.

Harry was once again on top, because he seemed to like sitting in Zayn’s lap while they kissed _slowly._ And that's all Harry was being - very, very slow. It was almost like a taunt - occasionally grinding his hips just enough to release some of the strain he was feeling, but build the tension Zayn was being drowned in.

It was when Harry nipped at one of Zayn’s earlobes that he had enough, moving his hands from the nape of Harry's neck to his hips, steadying them.

"Fucking do something or get off me." Zayn growled, tired of feeling so tight in his jeans.

"Slow, Zayn."

"Fuck that. I'm done with that. Are you?" Zayn bucked his own hips just enough to challenge Harry. He didn't like that much, pulling Zayn’s hand from his waist, gripping it on the bed next to Zayn’s head.

"What do you want?" Harry asked, hovering just centimeters above his lips, barely letting them brush together when he spoke.

Zayn slid his other hand up Harry’s body, feeling everything, coming to a solid conclusion. "Anything."

Harry took that in stride, giving up and letting his warm mouth fall on Zayn’s open one, their tongues playing well together. Harry barely started sliding off center with Zayn - Zayn kissing up Harrys nose, eyes, forehead, as Harry got further down. When Harry got back to Zayn’s waist, Harry felt the need to make something clear.

"My family won't be home until tonight, so the only interruptions you'll be getting this time will be yourself, just so you know." Harry warned, a cheeky smirk showing as he kissed over Zayn’s shirt.

"Ha ha." He breathed, biting his bottom lip at the sight before him.

Harry got right on top of Zayn’s hips and had the thought to ask, "You're okay with this, right?"

Zayn had no worries about what was happening, but he really wanted one thing to change. "Can we be naked?"

Harry turned darker with lust, whimpering out a _fuck yes_ as he hooked his fingers in the hem of Zayn’s shirt, sliding his hands up his torso slowly, bringing the clothing with. When he got to Zayn’s chest, Zayn rose from the bed, allowing him to pull it off all the way.

"Good.” Zayn whispered into Harry's ear. “I want full range of your skin." Gripping Harry's Who T-Shirt at the shoulder blades, somehow bunching it so he could get it all without too much effort.

"No complaints from me." Harry assisted in the process. When the shirts were gone, Harry took no time to get back to Zayn’s hips, getting Zayn’s pants off quicker than even the shirt. Zayn was laying there completely naked, Harry staring at him.

"You too." Zayn commanded, stopping Harry from moving in anymore.

Harry obeyed, removing the remainder of his clothes with only a few stumbles of clumsiness. Now Zayn understood the staring, because no matter how hard he tried to look away, he was stuck looking at Harry's hardened length.

"Come here." Zayn pleaded pathetically. Harry crawled up his body one last time, getting Zayn back in a laying position.

Zayn gripped his shoulder, finally realizing just how broad Harry was and how thin his own body was beneath it, kissing the boy. The warmth of Harry's skin almost burned under Zayn's hand and even still, he knew he'd stay touching it for hours if he could.

After a sloppy kiss, Harry moved a certain way causing their sensitive areas to bump together, both reacting in different ways - Harry with a hiss, Zayn with a gasp.

"Zayn, let me..." Harry whimpered, disconnecting them. Zayn loosened his grip as Harry descended another time.

This time, Harry had no plans of leaving before he got Zayn preening on his bed. He began with a hand, wrapping it fully around Zayn and pumping. That alone made Zayn feel blurry, and then when Harry’s mouth wrapped around him, Zayn couldn’t control his hips. He bucked hard enough that he hit the back of Harry’s throat, stealing a gag.

"Shit." Zayn murmured as an apology, scrunching the sheets in both hands, trying to hold some sort of composure.

Harry pulled off Zayn, offering some advice. "Hold on to me." He whispered in a rough voice, returning his mouth to Zayn. Zayn released the sheet in one hand, and gripped loosely the back of Harry’s hair, now feeling his steady rhythm in two places instead of just of one.

"Harry, fuck." Zayn moaned. "I'm close."

It didn't slow Harry at all, maybe only fueling him. After a few more seconds, Zayn was seeing white, releasing right into Harry’s mouth. Harry shamelessly took it all and popped off when it was over, licking his lips just once.

He met Zayn back at the jaw, kissing up the sharp edge with a moist mouth. Zayn had gone useless then, laying there, basking in his own post orgasm high. But a sudden thought rushed through his brain and he felt like shit.

He didn't even say anything, just pushed Harry off of him. Harry didn't have time to wonder what was going on before it was Zayn at Harry's pelvis.

"Zayn, you don't have to."

Zayn took one look at how worked up Harry was and knew that was a lie. He just had it done to himself, so he was feeling slightly more confident than he otherwise would have. He pecked at Harry's thighs a few times, gently clutching Harry in his hand, then wrapping his lips around the tip of Harry.

"Seriously, Zayn, that's not..." He breathed heavily, clearly liking Zayn’s actions. "I'm so close that it's not going to... not going to take all that. Your hands - your hands are just fine." All those words were coming out cut-off and strained, Harry arching his back and biting his lips.

Zayn wasn't having it, wanting to give back some to the person who just made his whole body vibrate, continuing the best he could. Harry was right though, it was only a few sucks before Harry was warning and Zayn was backing off, knowing he wouldn't be able to handle that yet.

With them both good and ruined, they laid in each other's arms after Harry had taken care of the cleanup with a damp washcloth.

Zayn was tracing the swallows on Harry’s chest, and Harry was doing figure eights into Zayn’s peck muscle when Harry began to speak. "This isn't going to be over soon, right?"

"What's not?" Zayn was too blissed out to even glance up at Harry, keeping his eyes on the birds he was chasing.

"This. Me. You."

Zayn sat up halfway to finally get a look at Harry, alarmed by the words cautiously spoke. "Why would it be?"

"Winter break. I know this is when people end it but, Zayn, we just started. I can do long distance for six weeks." Harry was working himself up too much, going over things that weren’t even on Zayn’s radar.

Finding the root of his concern, Zayn laughed a little as he stated something he thought Harry already knew. "Long distance? I'm from here, Harry. I'm not going anywhere."

"But you live in the dorms." Harry pointed out the obvious.

"I got a scholarship and it covered room and board. My house is crowded with all my sisters so I thought it would be best for everyone.” Zayn explained, smiling down as the worry washed away from Harry. "My house is like, fifteen minutes from here. That's where I'll be when the dorms close."

"So you're not going anywhere?" Harry clarified with the beginnings of a smirk - a look he perfected and Zayn loved.

"Not if you're not kicking me out!" Zayn laid back down in the crook of Harry's arm, getting just as comfortable as before.

"We'll see about that." Harry teased, loosening back up and resting in the sheets.

**Author's Note:**

> please tell me what you think either here or over on tumblr at showingthroughtome.tumblr.com


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